I have read to much and not enough love stories. I read first kisses that felt like forever, like fireworks burning in the night sky. First kisses that were perfect, full of passion of love.

This one is not like that all.

But it starts all the same. However, the rest of the story is unspoken, unwritten, lost to shadows of history men. You must remember even as everyone does not,

tangled in a far, far away dream whispers of long-forgotten touch of fingers

against your skin, sun-kissed burns that had turned cold over time. You must remember:

never, never forget the sun is too a star

never, never forget the moon has no light for itself, it shines on stolen light

never, never forget, drowning in intangible fever-dreams,

the wolf wrapped in sheep’s clothing.

Never forget-

lips sharp, soft and red-stained. lips hungry, open and devouring. starved, storm-roaring eyes wide-open and hands gripping nothing, yet everything. first kiss in the silence, heavy and cutting; the suffocating, burning sensation in your throat. meeting halfway in the aftermath. a lick of a fading fire. black smoke in the lungs. unspoken words caught in the hard lines of mouths. a stare of empty love. loud voices trapped in shivering fingers, in hands reaching out. in hands meeting halfway.

It had started like kisses in stories I read. Of the man under the moonlight, of the secret, forbidden love.

But no one had told me of the wolf. Of lips so red and full of blood stealing all the breath in my lungs. The burning, itching sensation in your throat. The screaming of wanting OUT! But you can’t escape those lips, those eyes. The feeling of drowning under crashing waves, strangling under love. Love heh, what love? There was only lust here, love being mistaken for lust. Meeting halfway in the night, and being cut off before you delve deeper because their voices of His is too loud and too full of something you don’t want to know.

Don’t dig deeper, the wolf will catch you in its sharp fangs.

The first touch of lips feels like forever only it’s not, it’s feeling of your nerves on electricity, the first taste of pleasure blinding everything, it’s the illusion of forever. There’s no forever here, there’s no fairytale.

QUESTION: What was your first kiss like?

ANSWER: Darling, it’s all the same; the wolf wrapped in sheep’s clothing. Lies and illusions of expectations blinding the cutting, brutal truth.

You must remember even as everyone forgets.

I kind of remember my first kill. Every detail of the mission leading up to the actual act. The others had always said that the first kill would always be burned into your mind, you'd never forget that first time you took someone's last breathe.

I don't remember their face, I can't even tell you if they were a man or a woman. Maybe its because I have been in the business for so long that all the faces are starting to blend together. Or it could be that I never actually felt too attached to "life" as the others were.

My trainer said it would make me the perfect assassin.

I remember in great detail the last one though. The one that sent me into hiding. The one I couldn't carry out.

The file had been like all the others. Name, Elle M. Age, 36. She was younger than any of the others I'd been sent after. I had only glanced over the rest of the file, known locations, there was something about her husband owing our client a debt and she'd been sent into hiding for it.

I handed the file back to my handler. "Make it look like an accident." He said.

I nodded, collected my tools and left.

A three hour flight, another hour by taxi, and I found myself in a slum. The streets were quite except for the occasional sound of breaking glass, and the humming of the mechanical drones, street sweepers, and other unmanned deviced. No civil servant wanted to be in this area, the stench alone would have sent a normal, unaccustom person to gagging and running for the nearest trax depot.

It did take some adjusting to the smell, but it quickly became nothing but the background. The homes were practically smashed into each other. The upper levels of the city were at least four or five times the size of these 'homes' my simple apartment provided by the organization looked like a castle.

It felt off.

Every other hit had been well off, politicians, executives, people who were effecting change in the world. Things that others didn't want to see come to fruition.

It broke protocol, but I went to the woman's work establishment. The diner was almost as grimy as the streets themselves. The air felt greasy and stank of stale sweat and potatoes that weren't going to last another day if they weren't fried.

She was young. But not as young as the picture has shown, I passed it off as this place weighing down on her. After a quick, cold coffee I went to her apartment again.

I made myself at home in tight front room.

When she arrived she only spared me a glance before going to the kitchenette. We said nothing, I waited.

"So, I guess you're here to collect or kill me?" She said finally, I went to speak, but she continued. "I loved him once you know. But he just couldn't keep himself from gambling. Every night I'd tell him not to go, every night he'd say he was going to make it all back and more this time. But, you know, here we are now."

I relexed back in the chair a bit more. "I don't need the details."

"No?" She laughed, there was the sound of dishes falling into the sink. "Then why aren't you after him instead of me, huh? Jacob said he would take it on himself, that he was going to take responsibility. But here you are, some trained killer coming to probably break my neck to send him a message. And what about Livvi? What are you going to do to her?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Who?"

She was two.

I was going to leave her motherless and alone.

I could remember that pain. That was a vivid memory in my lifetime. It had left me as an easy pick up for the organization. Were they planning to come sweep her up too?

She opened her eyes, I was standing behind her mother in the door way.

Don't hurt Mommy. The words were angry, forced, they almost pushed me back from the doorway. In my mind.

"She's-"

"Yes." Elle said. "I know your type, you'll do your job. But if they find her-"

Don't hurt Mommy.

"-and find a way to-"

I'll hurt you if you hurt Mommy.

"-bare it if she became some kind of-"

My head was reeling. The child's voice pounded and thrashed in my skull saying it over and over.

"Livvi stop it!"

The voice stopped.

"Mamma..." she started crying in her mother's arms.

"I know, but your daddy made a mistake. And now we have to face the consequences." She said softly. "Remember what I told you when we got here?"

The girl nodded.

Elle turned to me in the hall, "I don't care what you do to me. But you're taking her with you, swear to me that you'll take care of her."

"I-"

"Swear!" She yelled. At the same time the child's voice said it in my mind.

I flinched. I should have just done the job. ...Damn I should have read the file I'm sure it would have mentioned a child! This was spiralling out of my control.

"Please." Elle said softly. "I want her to have a normal life."

"She'll never have a normal life."

My brother hadn't.

Damn it all to hell.

A robbery gone wrong. That was what the news had said. The blood confirmed it was Ellenor Margaree, a once renound genetic scientist, and her daughter Livvi. Further DNA was discovered in the nearby biodegrader plant. The thieves had tried to despose of the bodies themselves.

I didn't know how to raise a child. But I did know how to make three people disappear.

you take words from my throat, twist it

let it drip and slick (it’s sweet sweet honey, darling)

into my heart

right there, in between my ribs

my heart beats. and

t h e w h o l e w o r l d c r u m b l e s

You say we don't have a problem

Guns don't kill

People do

But from what I see assault weapons do

Why do we need guns that can shoot so much at a time

You can't hunt animals with them but it's ok to hunt humans

That is what is happening

Time to fix the people not gun laws

Well let's look at that

We had a law limiting mentally unstable people that you overturned .

You took funding away for mental health also .

Fix the people that do this right ok

Guns in the wrong hands become a bomb waiting to go off .

You light there fuses making statements against immigrants there monsters you say

Well has an immigrant or black person been in these mass shootings as a shooter no dare not I say .

All white peoples are not bad but we have some that are very very bad .

Today I'm sad to wake up to an America the world sees as unable to fix this whole thing .

Only more death and despair

Politicians argue over reasons why

But get nothing done

America wake up and see the problem

If they won't do nothing

Get rid of them all peacefully

Use the power of the ballot

Vote them all out

Replace them all

Go for independents

Doesn't have to be democrat or republican

Vote for people who are like all of us

That will take action

No action just continues this epidemic .

The time is now the time is right .

Get to the real problem

Ban assault rifles and bullets

I agree 2nd amendment should stand

We have a right to our guns our founding fathers would have banned these weapons and kept hand guns shotguns .

So as you think about it hug your families tell them you love them everyday .

Because America has become a ticking time bomb .

When will the next one happen where will it be .

Could be your hometown

Could be at a mcdonalds or Taco Bell next .

Imagine going to eat out and kids playing in the playground then suddenly life is forever changed

Let's be sensible about this

Use the power of your vote

Vote for action not inaction .

America can and needs to change .

We love America red white and blue

Home of the brave

Let's be brave and vote with our hearts and minds

Together we can change

Together we can do what is right

Together yes with one voice our voices will be heard .

Just vote and United we can change things for a safer America .

God bless the United States of America .

The last time my children saw my father, we stood

around his bed. He lay confined, but

flooded with light from the high windows,

Autumn leaves resolving over lakes and mountains.

“Will you raise the painting?” The painting

hung between two windows, opposite his bed. He wanted it

raised six inches, to line up with the tops

of the thinly trimmed windows, a detail

few would notice, but fifty years of architecture

left him indelibly aware. I moved the nail, raised

the painting, and he relaxed, visibly,

into his pillow. Even here,

the thin veil stretched to a fine mesh, his last toehold

to this world became aesthetic,

the spatial relationship between the things

within his line of vision. Nicholas was twelve, and Lucy, seven,

and my father lay restless, not fully aware of us

around his bed. Light from the setting sun,

colliding in geometric shapes with the angles

of the white walls. And then as if conducting, he made

peculiar gestures. Raising his right hand

above his face, he dragged it through the air,

tracing a line with his thumb to a point. Then

he lifted his left hand to bisect the line

at a perpendicular. “He is measuring the shadows,.”

Lucy explained reassuringly, and we all stood silently,

to watch him, for the last time, working.

If I could hold your addiction, a tangible darkness, I’d drop it from shaking hands to mouth-watering tongue and swallow it whole. Let it lay heavy in my throat. Too immense to slide down my gullet. I’d take your affliction. Wide-awake, fever dreams and swollen, insomnia eyes would be easier. My insides are more stone than yours. My heart, Medusa-stare hardened. More capable of caging that ache. Instead I wake wet. Not sure if I am drenched in your sweat or your tears. And I fall back to sleep, uneasy. Your words laying heavy. A humid whisper that never leaves. I’m not using. And when you say it. It means you just did. I’m not using. Because I just did. And everything is numb. But it’ll hurt again soon. But I’m not using. Starting tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we can sleep in, because I won’t wake up screaming. I won’t wake up sobbing. I won’t wake up shaking. Because I’m not using. I swear I’m not using. And just stay tonight. I swear I’m not using. And the sun is just a little too bright today but I’m not using. I’m just tired. It was just a party. I’m not using. I know it was a hit and run, but if I stopped it’d be a whole, big thing, and I’m not using. And I didn’t mean to leave you at that house but I was in the basement, and I forgot you were waiting, and it was just one time. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be fine. And I’m sorry I stained your shirt again, but the blood will stop soon. I’m not using. And I know that you’re tired, but please, just one more night. Because tomorrow is the day. And tomorrow I won’t be using. I just can’t sleep. And please, just sit with me. Tomorrow. I’m not using. And I’ll pay you back after I turn this money around. I’m not using. And I’m just not happy. And it’s not you I swear. I love you. But could you just give me one night. Because I’m not using. Tomorrow I’m not using. But I’m just not happy tonight. It’s only because of me. It’s not because of you. It’s my dad and my ex and my job. And I just need to turn this money around, wait in the car. I’m not using. Just wait in the car. And I slept a few days ago. Don’t worry. I’m not using. Tonight was the last time. Because I’m not using. I’m not using. I’m not using. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Gimme that tray. Hold my square.